Full Disclosure Part 1

Originally, my plan was to update this weekly. That was before life got busy, and definitely before New York’s Summer Social Season.

It doesn’t matter whether you have money in your pocket, or A list friends, there’s just too damned much stuff to do in this city from now until late September. I’ll give you an example of this weekend’s options:

Weekend with sister and her husband at their Upstate McMansion. Okay, not really a mansion, but 4 bedrooms, 3 baths, family, formal dining, living, eat-in kitchen and a hilltop deck with a view to Connecticut. Considering that the average NYC apartment is less than 500 square feet, what would YOU call it?
Did I mention the Jacuzzi?

Montauk with Roberto. Same deal as Upstate, but add beachfront property and lap pool to the list.

South Beach. Some call it a part of Miami, Florida. We New Yorkers call it just another suburb. Sort of like Bensonhurst in the summertime. Actually, my Miami-based friends and I see each other more often than many of my Manhattan-based friends.

Puerto Rico, Santo Domingo, Rio. Same as Miami, except that the flight is a little longer. Here’s an oddity… it takes about the same amount of time to get to these locations as it does to Montauk!

Local cookouts are in abundance as well. I was invited to no less than 9 over the weekend. It’s absolutely ingenious the way city folk use backyards, frontyards, terraces, rooftops, public parks, and even the sidewalk to create outdoor kitchens
fragrant with the aroma of searing flesh. Poor lil’ piggies!

With so many options, I do what any true social maven would. I stay in bed.
Thursday evening, the person I live with announced with a smirk that he was spending the weekend in Philadelphia. Funny, that didn’t make MY list. I wished him well on the outside – and of course secretly sent condolences. Don’t get me wrong – he’s a nice guy and all. The truth is that the fact he was spending three days in the Land of Cream Cheese sent me into ecstasy. THREE DAYS without forced conversation, compromise, and 1300 square feet of prime Brooklyn real estate to frolic through au natural made me feel like the star of a popular kitty litter commercial. YAY! Our owner/captors are gone! Let the games begin!

I was hoping to be the star of my own pornography video as well, but those plans fell apart Friday night. Oh, well – tears in a bucket…

As it turned out, the universe once again knew what was best. What I really needed was sleep. Working on three shows with a schedule all over the clock is no easy task. On Saturday morning I got a call to do swing shift for yet another Broadway play. I gratefully accepted the work, thanked the person who referred me, and climbed back under the covers. Then Marcos called.

Marcos wears many hats: Actor, Producer, Model, Bartender – and Bed Buddy. No – not that way – let me explain.
Our ritual goes like this. I’m in bed. The phone rings. It’s Marcos. “What are you doing?”
“I’m in bed”
“Of course you are – so am I. Let’s (go to a movie, have lunch, rollerblade, have a drink… fill in the blank)”
“Sure – what time?”
We usually give ourselves two hours, since we live within 15 minutes of each other.
An hour and a half passes.
“Hello”
“You’re still in bed?”
“Of course I am – and so are you!”
“(Laughter) we know each other too well”
“Okay, I’ll call you in a couple of hours”
So far, our record for this discourse is 2 days. We have a great time when we do go out together - but its these non-conversations that define our friendship.

I finally did go out Saturday – after dark – to my usual restaurant in my old East Village neighborhood. I was expecting the city to be empty, but that was not the case. After walking north, then west, and running into no less than 6 people I had had carnal knowledge of between 1974 and 1998, it was time to go home. It was good to see old lovers still alive, but I’m not so sure it was a great thing to see a couple of them old. “The years have been kind to you” one of them said to me. Unfortunately, I felt returning the compliment would be neither appropriate nor true.

My college ex and I did make plans for Sunday. He IS well-preserved. We found a great Peruvian place on Smith Street. He’s also well invested, and surprised me by picking up the tab. We walked for a while after dinner, with the usual “do you still see?” and “whatever happened to?” conversation. The streets were empty in Brooklyn, a welcome change from the Manhattan hubbub. We got to his place, said our good-nights, and I continued home.

And now it’s Monday. Just checked my email - already have two invites for Museum Mile cocktail parties during the week and an evening of dancing next Sunday. All this on top of work, and my siter's $40,000.00 40th birthday bash (SHE married well...). Geez, aren't you people still in HOLIDAY mode?

Sunny, humid, and 88 degrees outside. Its a great time for a nap. Let me see what Marcos is doing…

Name Dropping

Name Dropping

More than one of you has asked for a more detailed account of my professional and personal relations.

I will say this once, and only once. I’m not in the habit of name-dropping. Nor am I accustomed to spreading vicious gossip. It’s not a good way to keep clients or relationships, and having been the blunt of a few nasty truths and untruths myself, I certainly wouldn’t want to put another person through that.

Having said that, here’s what I’ve been up to:

Fashion Week was pretty busy for me, even though nothing that I was involved with was part of 7th on 6th. I was key hair and makeup for the TV Land 10th anniversary promo, as well as TV Land Rocks!, Here’s The Story, Nick@Nite’s Road Crew, Backdrop NYC, The Gotham Awards, and several other private clients – both celebrity and socialite.

Here’s where I have to send special hugs to Mally Roncal (cute as a button - hope your line does well in Bendel's) S. Epatha Markeson (we'll be trading renovation horror stories when you get back), Sweet Honey in the Rock (thank you so much for your love - and for understanding that I only have two hands and that you are seven ladies), Kim Fields (I’ll be ready for that “special” coffee in about a week), Cat Greenleaf (when’s the next Sabbath?), Mike and Victoria Rispoli ( nice to see a celebrity couple REALLY in love), Brooke Shields ( I KNOW – I owe you a call!) Rosie O'Donnell (good luck on your new gig - I don't get it - but I don't have to) Anderson Cooper (you’re never HOME anymore) Jon Bon Jovi ( I had to find out from your accountant that your dad was a hair stylist. Why didn't you just SAY so?), Annie Quick (Kudos for going for it!), and Gavin DeGraw (You're a nice kid. I know - but you're still a kid as far as I'm concerned)

My personal life has certainly kept up with my public as of late. Of course, there are the backstage, promotional, and wrap parties.

I’ve met a number of dynamic, like-minded individuals as of late - just when I thought I was going to become an Upstate hermit. My guess is that there’s going to be a parlor along the Hudson brimming to the threshold with interesting houseguests from all walks of life.

This brings me to one person in particular. You know who you are. Like I said earlier – I don’t name-drop. Let’s just say that I’m looking forward to many more long walks, laughs, plays, and nights watching each other sleep. Oh, yeah – and I’ll make sure to keep the candy dish full ;)

I’m convinced that many people on a certain online employment list believe “Creative Job”, and “Sucker” is synonymous.

These people have never had to apply makeup on a stairwell holding a flashlight in their mouth as the only light source, stood on a NYC rooftop in February for a spring fashion shoot, or been asked to work on a three-month film for a three second credit scroll.

If you happen to be in a creative industry like I am, here’s what you need to do:

In the beginning, at least, GET A REGULAR JOB! I can’t tell you how many people have written to ask me about how I started in the industry. They all seem to think that Calvin Klein saw me walking through the Ghetto in Brooklyn, and said “You look like a good makeup artist – here’s my line – introduce it in Bloomingdale’s on B’Way and I’ll give you $5,000.00 a day!” Others assume that since my parents were obviously well off (which is why I suppose they chose to raise their children in a house less than 1000 feet from a heroin tenement), there was no need to worry about cash while running all over the city doing makeup for tear sheets.

After being certified as a hairstylist, I assisted and eventually managed a salon. The salon started retailing its haircare line in department stores, and I became a territory coordinator. This was sort of round-about, since what I really wanted to become expert at was makeup application. I eventually managed a makeup counter. What better way to learn about hygiene and application. I learned to work with a myriad of different faces, and got paid for it as well. After some experience, it was time to start taking on occasional freelance assignments. Personally, I’ve never found it necessary to work for absolutely free.

Now, payment comes in many forms at first. Tear sheets are great. They establish that someone had felt strongly enough about my work to publish it. The golden rule to this approach is that you MUST get credit for the work. It has to be in writing. Otherwise, it’s just not worth doing. Barter also works in some instances. I have done makeup for clothing, and enough massage and personal training sessions to last for a couple of years. There are also a few bars around the city that never charge me for drinks. That’s a good thing in a city where a French ‘75 can run upwards of 12 bucks. No wonder so many makeup artists abuse liquor and drugs – I’m also convinced that cannabis is a currency only second to greenbacks.

It became apparent all too soon that designer outfits aren’t edible. My portfolio got to a point where I found myself editing out the work that was less representative of the direction I wanted to move in, and jobs that paid a decent amount of cash became more regular. The time came when the freelance gigs were just more profitable than holding down a 9 to 5.

That’s not to say that this is a glamorous industry by any means. You know how actors always complain about having to be on set at 5 AM for makeup? Well, guess what… makeup and hair stylists have to be on set at 4, in order to prepare for the actors’ arrivals. 16 hour days are no at all unusual in the industry. Keep that in mind the next time you get teed off at having to put an extra ½ hour in at the office.

This is why we get paid what we do. Think about how mush you pay for an expert haircut (everybody gets a good hair cut at least once in a while – right?). Now multiply that by 24 (most stylists do a cut every ½ hour or so). The number you come up with is the minimum you should expect to pay a hair/makeup professional for an all-day shoot. Also, take into account that they are transporting all equipment to the location you specify, AND purchasing all products that they’re using on you? See? Now the rates start to make sense…

Sorry about the rant – but somebody had to do it!

This is the publicity photo I've been using as of late... More will come soon

There is only one rule of the universe that I can honestly say makes sense to me. Equilibrium, homeostasis, the Law of Energy and Matter – whatever you want to call it – I get it.
For example:

• The sun is made of gas. It burns. Grass grows. Cows eat grass. Cows get gas. Gas rises up to the sun.
• Celebrities get nominated for awards. They get motivated, go on diets, exercise, and lose weight. I get nominated for an I.R.S. audit. I get depressed, stuff myself with cheese sandwiches and ice cream, lie in bed as a result of deep depression, and find the pounds that they lost.
•The Miss America Pageant takes place in Atlantic City and is broadcast as a major Television Event. Polyester is fashionable, and young women across the United States think its okay to use eyeliner on only half the lower lid. The pageant moves to Las Vegas and becomes part of Country Music Television. Micro fiber becomes fashionable. As far as the eyeliner – go look for yourself.
• My mother and grandmother protect me. I tell them my problems, ask them for direction, and even cry on their laps when things hurt. They kiss the wounds, make the hurt go away, and once in a while guide me with either constructive criticism or an outright smack on the butt. They die. They continue.

I have my doubts about gods and saints, but not spirits. I’ve never seen a burning bush talk, or water turn to wine. I hear Mom and Grandma every day. They give me advice, speed the healing, and even give me an occasional tickle or smack. I know they haven’t left me.

See? I get it. Totally!

Early Beefcake 

Tyrone's Beauty Blog

Hi all!

Firstly, I want to thank Michael for knocking me on the back of the head, calling me "stupid", and pointing out the fact that I probably should have started this months ago.

Ms. Charity - your blog was an inspiration!

RuPaul - this is all your fault. When we corresponded last year, I knew I had to do SOMETHING. Your kind and sharing spirit is overlooked by many and appreciated by fewer.

This is a work in progress.

Stick with me while I work out the kinks - HTML is not my friend.
Today’s goal is to Google myself. After that, maybe I’ll give Alta Vista an IMDB a chance as well. Seems I’m popping up all over the place, and if anybody’s going to use my quotes, it may as well start here. Check the links regularly. I’ll add ‘em as I find ‘em:

http://beauty.ivillage.com/author/bio/0,,8np1,00.html

http://www.lifetimetv.com/reallife/health/features/looksuper_sweating.html

http://www.grabthegab.com/index.php/weblog/how_to_get_the_haircut_you_want/

http://beauty.ivillage.com/hair/cutsstyling/0,,r3jc,00.html

http://www.maybelline.com/nyscene/look.aspx (this directs you to scene 2 - if you want to see me, you have to go back 1 frame to scene 1)

That should get you started...